Chatterbox
by Someone aka Me
Summary: "Charlie's afraid to tell his mother because, really, there are so many aspects of their relationship that she could disapprove of. He's surprised by her answer." Ron is furious. Dinner is awkward. Mentions Charlie/Draco. Most likely Complete.
1. Mum, I'm dating Draco Malfoy

AN: As far as I'm considered, Charlie/Draco is severely underrepresented :D. Not sure why, but I adore this paring.

Warnings: Unbetaed. Mentions of slash.

Dislclaimer: I am definitely not J. K. Rowling. Sadly.

Charlie's afraid to tell his mother because, really, there are so many aspects of their relationship that she could disapprove of. He's surprised by her answer.

It's what Charlie considers the least of these that bothers her the most.

* * *

Charlie Weasley has never been afraid to tell his mother anything. Molly Weasley was an exceptionally accepting witch, and she had a capacity for forgiveness that was almost unparalleled.

Charlie's always been her open child.

With Bill, it was never about a lack of trust, but about the fact that Bill's always been a man of few words. He never felt the need to tell her anything above the bare minimum.

With Percy, it was simply that he told her what he felt was important, never mind that it wasn't important to anyone else. The things that she considered important, he considered trivial and not worth mentioning.

With Fred and George... Well, perhaps it was better that those two were smart enough to keep things close to the belt. She'd have no hair left if they didn't, and they'd be grounded until kingdom come.

With Ron, he always wanted to be independent. It was a part of his need to be recognized apart from – preferably above – the others. He felt like speaking with his mother was conceding.

With Ginny, she would never admit that she needed to talk to her mother. Maybe she never did need to. Ginny always was exceptionally strong.

But Charlie has always been her chatterbox, her motormouth. Not around others, not as much. Not that he's ever stoic, like Bill. Charlie's got a presence, a personality, and it springs from his words. Around his mother, the stream never stops. Charlie has always told her everything.

So why is this so hard?

It shouldn't be.

It's just... There are simply so many things about this relationship to disapprove of.

"Mum."

"Yes, dear?"

"Can I... talk to you about something?"

"Of course, dear. What is it?"

Charlie takes a deep breath before deciding that spitting it out would probably be the best course of action.

"Mum, I'm dating Draco Malfoy."

Molly blinks in surprise.

Charlie can practically see the thoughts running through her head. The repercussions. The reasons why this is a _bad idea._ The stuff that Charlie thought about and decided it didn't matter because he was _worth it_.

1. He's a boy. Charlie's never told his mother he was into guys, quite simply because he never knew. Until now, obviously.

2. He's a Malfoy. The Malfoys and the Weasleys have _never_ gotten along.

3. Dad _detests_ his father.

4. Ron detests _him_.

5. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are always fighting with him.

6. Ron's always talking about how he's a (insert foul name here). Always.

7. He's an ex-Death Eater. Sort of. Kind of. According to Charlie, not really. According to Draco himself, yes really. This one is ambiguous at best.

8. His father was a Death Eater. Much less ambiguous, thank you very much.

9. He's a Slytherin.

10. He's rich. The Weasleys have never mixed well with rich people.

11. He's snarky and sarcastic (which Charlie happens to love about him) and his mother tends not to appreciate that type of humor.

12. He can, at times, be a total git. Charlie concedes this point, though not gracefully. Charlie Weasley has never managed to do anything gracefully, except perhaps fly a broomstick.

Strangely, in Charlie's opinion, though his mother raises an objection, it's none of these. She appears to have raised and simultaneously have discarded every fault he thought she could find with their relationship.

"He's only _eighteen_, Charlie! He's _eight years_ younger than you!"

"Seven," he corrects her softly, his gaze directed at the floor. "Seven years and three days. We're opposite ends of the Hogwarts division; he's old for his year, I'm young for mine."

"So you've given this some thought, then?" There's a warning in her tone that says the honest answer had better be yes or Charlie's doomed.

"Of course I have, Mum." She nods. Charlie always has been the best of her children at foresight. He – and Percy, she supposes – is the only one who really considers what he's getting himself into. It's why she supported his decision to study dragons, despite her worry. She knew he'd thought it through.

"And you know better than to treat him as though he's twenty-six?"

"Of course, Mum." He looks her in the eye. "You raised me right. I know how to treat someone I care about, no matter the situation. I know how to be careful, for my sake and his."

She nods. "You're a good boy." And that's that. Or, almost.

"So when are you going to have this boy over for dinner, so I can meet him?"

Charlie groans. "Muuuuuuuum."

She gives him one of her 'Looks'. "Now, Charlie, you know how these things go."

Charlie sighs. "Yes, Mum." He grins. "I'll find out when he's available."

AN: Not particularly pleased with the ending, though I might write a second chapter, because that dinner ought to be interesting... If there's any interest.


	2. That's my boyfriend you're insulting!

AN: So, I couldn't resist writing a second chapter :D Actually, there'll probably be a third. Ron insisted upon usurping this one, and I didn't even get to the dinner. I still like it though.

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

* * *

Charlie is ecstatic. Draco can come tomorrow.

He tells his mother, and she's happy for him. And then she ruins it.

"Do give your brother some warning, won't you dear?"

Charlie swears internally. _Ron._ Ron is not going to be happy about this. Not in the slightest. He considers, for a moment, disregarding his mother's request and simply letting things play out, but Charlie realizes soon enough that his mother is right, as usual. Watching Ron explode now was better than watching him explode with Draco there.

Charlie checks that his wand is safely in his pocket before going to find Ron. Better safe than sorry.

* * *

"Ron?" Ron looks up from his chessboard, where he's been mulling things over. Ron's the only person Charlie knows that can actually play a legitimate game of chess with himself. Where he got his chess skills is a complete mystery; Bill's the only other Weasley who's any good at all at the game, and Ron destroys him every time.

Charlie hesitates, but Ron nods for him to go on.

"We're having a guest over. For dinner tomorrow."

Ron frowns in confusion. They have guests all the time. They all take it in stride; people show up unexpectedly at their dinner table quite frequently. Ron wonders why Charlie is telling him.

"It's just..." Charlie continues, seeing Ron's befuddlement. "I... Can you... behave? For me? Please?"

And Ron understands. "Finally bringing someone home to meet the family, are you? She pretty?"

The last question is a joke, and Charlie knows it, but he thunks his brother on the back of his head anyway, grinning.

He sobers. "He," he corrects softly. Ron startles, briefly, then nods and accepts this. Merlin, Charlie loves his family.

"Okay. But... Why are you asking me to...? Because it's someone you don't think I'll agree with." Charlie nods. Sometimes, Ron's smarter than they give him credit for.

Ron shakes his head. "Do you think so little of me? C'mon, Charlie. It's not like you're dating an ex-Death Eater, or something."

Charlie winces and looks down.

"You aren't..." Ron whispers in horror. "You are!"

"Well..." Charlie mumbles. "Kind of... I mean... It depends on who you ask, really..." He tries to pacify Ron.

"And if you ask me?" Ron asks exactly what Charlie had hoped he wouldn't.

Charlie scuffs his foot on the floor, a longtime nervous habit of his. "You'd say he is."

"What the hell are you thinking, Charlie?" Ron roars, outraged. In that instant, Charlie goes from nervous to furious. Who is Ron to decide? It's Charlie's decision.

"I was thinking that the world's not black and white! I was thinking that people deserve second chances!

"I was thinking that people make mistakes, Ron! You of all people should know that!"

It's a low blow, and Charlie knows it. They don't mention Ron's leaving Harry and Hermione in the Weasley family. Ever.

Ron recoils as though he's been slapped, and in a way, he has. He feels betrayed, mostly because it's true. Who is he to judge another's mistakes when he's made mistakes of his own?

Charlie speaks softly, in an attempt to salvage this conversation. "He's not a bad person, Ron. Just unlucky, and when it came down to it, his only viable choices were accept the Mark or die."

"And I suppose you know this because _he_ told you."

"He did," Charlie agrees. "Your point?"

"How can you trust what he says?"

Charlie forces himself to restrain his famous Weasley temper.

"By that logic, how can anyone trust what anyone says?"

"Charlie, he's a Death Eater! They're liars by trade!"

"That's always been your problem, Ron!" Charlie explodes. "You judge everyone by their associations and assume they're all the same! All Death Eaters are not the same, Ron, in the same way all Slytherins aren't and all Gryffindors aren't!"

"Death Eaters are scum!"

"And Gryffindors are brave! And then you take into account Peter Pettigrew, and things go haywire!" Charlie calms his hands, which have been gesturing emphatically, as they always do when he speaks with passion. He meets his brother's eyes. "You can't judge each person by the groups they belong to, Ron. There are exceptions to every rule."

Ron nods, and then says, just as seriously, "Death Eaters are scum."

Charlie turns away, hurt. He walks to the the door, throwing, "Mum wants you at dinner tomorrow, regardless. I hope you can be civil."

And it would have been a perfect dramatic exit, a perfect last word, if Charlie had been able to leave it at that. But he can't. He can't resist one last attempt. He turns back.

"You see what you want to see, Ron. You see the worst in people you want to believe the worst of. You see that he's a sarcastic, self-serving git. And I'm not going to deny that that's true, but that's not all he is. He's also funny, and fiercely loyal to the people he cares about, and hopelessly romantic, and extraordinarily intelligent and persistent and true. And I see _all_ of that. Not just the bad, not just the good.

"I don't need you to be his best friend. I don't even need you to _like_ him. I just need you to accept that this is _my_ life, _my_ decision, and I'm choosing him. And I need you to be okay with that.

"I know you can't understand this, Ron. I know that you can't understand my decision. But it's still my decision to make."

Charlie won't let go of Ron's gaze. He watches the wheels turn as Ron processes this. Charlie's right. Ron can't understand, but despite their age differences, Ron's always rather favored Charlie. He doesn't want to lose his brother because of this.

Sharply, Ron nods once.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Charlie asks, puzzled.

"Okay. It's your decision, and I respect that. I'll hold my tongue. I won't like it, but I'll hold my tongue."

Charlie closes his eyes briefly in relief. "Thank you, Ron. I appreciate that." He turns to walk away, but Ron's voice stops him.

"Charlie?"

Charlie turns back around. "Yeah?"

"You never told me who it was."

Charlie sighs. He'd forgotten that. He can only hope that Ron's tentative acceptance will survive this blow. He decides to bite the bullet. Better the explosion now than when Draco steps through the Floo.

"It's Draco Malfoy."

Ron clenches his fists, attempting to hold in his flash-fire temper. His face turns colors, first red, then purple, then pure white. He's not breathing. Charlie actually worries for a moment.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU THINKING, CHARLIE?"

The worry's gone.

Charlie sighs. "Ron, we've been over this."

"I know, Charlie, but MALFOY?"

"Yes, Ron. _Draco_."

"He's a slimy, snaky little git!"

"Watch it, Ron," Charlie warns. "That's my boyfriend you're insulting."

Ron chokes. His face, which was just starting to regain it's normal color, has taken on a greenish hue.

A swear word hisses out between his lips as he sinks down onto the chair he bolted out of the first time he swore at Charlie. Charlie didn't know his little brother had such a foul mouth, though he supposes it could be the circumstances.

"Ron?" Charlie inquires, actually frightened for his brother's health. This many shocks really can't be good for the boy.

Ron's gaze snaps up to meet Charlie's.

"You know that he's a git?"

"I know that he can be."

"You know that he's a Slytherin."

"I do."

"You know that he was a Death Eater."

"I know that you think he was."

"You know that he _hates_ me."

"I know that you hate him back."

"You know that he's a _Malfoy_."

"I know that the name doesn't make the person."

And Ron nods. And Charlie stares at him in shock.

"What does that mean?" he asks, a bit wary.

"It means that you're a big boy. It means that if this goes terribly horribly wrong, don't come crying to me because all you're going to get is an I told you so. It means that you're my brother, and despite everything, for some unfathomable reason, I trust your judgement." Ron bites his lip. "Don't expect me to be a good brother-in-law."

Charlie laughs, and Ron cracks a smile.

Charlie hugs his brother, quickly, because, really, they don't show affection enough. Charlie ruffles Ron's hair, and Ron smiles because Charlie hasn't done that in years.

"You'll be civil?" Charlie asks guardedly.

"I'll try," Ron quips.

"That's all I ask."


	3. Nothing can match how awkward that was

Disclaimer: Oddly enough, I still don't own Harry Potter.

AN: I couldn't resist, so there's one tiny DH part two spoiler in here, but only for a small clip in the movie, and it won't really spoil much if you haven't seen the movie.

This story keeps getting away from me. It started as a one shot. At this point, I'm guessing it'll end up being four. I don't know how this keeps happening! This is the longest one yet, and I still haven't even made it to dinner, which was originally supposed to be in the first chapter!

This chapter is not my favorite. Most of it's a bit tedious in the middle, but I wanted to show everyone's reactions, and not just Ron's, so I'm leaving it there. Feel free to skim. There's some lovely fluff at the bottom to appease you if you persist! I promise the next chapter will be more exciting!

* * *

Charlie can't settle down. He's twitchy, and he's been bouncing on the balls of his feet all day. Ron looks like he desperately wants to say something, but so far he's held his tongue, which Charlie is both immensely grateful for and very surprised by. Half an hour before Draco's even due, Charlie's already in the living room, watching the fireplace. He tries sitting, but he can't and instead chooses to pace.

Precisely on the set time, not a minute earlier, not a minute later (of course – this is Draco Malfoy, after all) the fire flares up. Charlie quits pacing, screams "He's here! He's here!" before he can stop himself, and bounces in place. Draco, quite the opposite, steps gracefully out of the Floo and carefully dusts himself off before glancing up. Still, despite his aristocratic upbringing, Draco can't stop the stupid smile that spreads across his face any more than Charlie can.

"Char," he murmurs in greeting.

"Draco!" Charlie yelps and he steps forward, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy. "I missed you," he murmurs. Draco laughs quietly.

"It's only been a week," he points out.

"I still missed you," Charlie insists. Draco smiles before conceding.

"I missed you, too," he confesses. Charlie grins happily and turns around, leaving one arm still around Draco's shoulders. His mother is standing in the doorway, watching with a quiet smile on her face.

"Draco," Charlie says, guiding the boy forward, "This is my mum. Mum, this is Draco."

Draco sticks out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

Molly laughs lightly, but in such a way that it's quite clear that she's not laughing at Draco.

"Call me Molly, dearie. Or at least Mrs. Weasley, if that makes you comfortable. All this ma'am stuff makes me feel old. Or, well, older than I am." She laughs again, and Draco decides that her laugh is a very cheerful sound, much like Charlie's. They both have very hearty laughs. She shakes his hand, though, and he's impressed. It's a good, firm shake, not too hard, and not too long. He's a bit surprised, though, when she pulls him into a firm hug.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Draco."

Draco stands in her arms awkwardly. He's not used to being hugged. He should have expected this, really, knowing how oddly affectionate Charlie is, but still. As far as he's concerned, this is the first time he's even properly meeting this woman, and she's _hugging_ him. It is nearly as awkward as getting hugged by Voldemort, but then, truthfully, _nothing_ can match how awkward that was.

Draco shudders internally.

Mrs. Weasley finally pulls away, patting Draco's arm.

"Dinner will be ready in a few. Charlie, round everyone up, won't you dear?"

Draco is a bit afraid of the word everyone. Just how many people are going to be here? He knows the Weasleys have a large family, but he'd forgotten that when he agreed to come. Molly bustles back into the kitchen and Draco turns to Charlie. "Everyone?" he asks.

"Just Ron, George, and Ginny, really. Percy doesn't come for dinner except on Sundays, and Bill's working in... France, at the moment. Fleur is awful happy about that." Charlie smirks.

Draco raises an eyebrow. "You have _five _siblings?" The idea seems foreign to him.

"Well, now, anyway," Charlie murmurs, and Draco suspects he's touched a nerve, but it's a moment before he can figure out which nerve it is.

"I'm sorry," he says automatically, and then he does an internal double-take. _Since when does _Draco Malfoy_ apologize?_ he wonders. But then, the war has changed him. It's changed all of them.

Charlie shakes his head.

"We don't really mention Fred. Especially around George."

Draco nods as though he understands, but he doesn't, not really. He's never even had a sibling, not to mention lost one, and especially not one as close as Fred and George.

"Come on, we'll round them up," Charlie says, shaking off the gloomy mood. He leads Draco to a tall, winding staircase that, despite it's slightly rickety, dangerous appearance, Draco kind of loves, if only because he's never seen anything quite like it.

The first door Charlie knocks on is Ginny's, and she's been reading, apparently, because she still has the book in her hand when she opens the door. Charlie's a bit surprised, but he figures it must be Hermione's influence, because Ginny's been spending a lot of time with her and the boys lately.

Ginny gives Draco a once-over, threatens, "Don't you dare hurt my brother," and then sticks out her hand to shake.

Draco is mildly surprised, to say the least. Charlie isn't. Ginny took it best when he warned his siblings who their dinner guest would be. She had simply asked if he was happy, and when Charlie had nodded, she had said, "All right, then," and turned back to the letter she'd been writing. That was a bit of a relief, really, because Ginny could be surprisingly intimidating when she wanted to.

He takes her hand, and they shake once, firmly, before she turns to Charlie.

"Dinner ready?" she guesses. He nods. "Right. I'll be down in a mo."

Charlie nods again and takes Draco's hand, dragging him up further steps. This time the door they knock on appears to be George's. There's no reply at first.

"Georgie?" Charlie calls.

"In a second," a voice calls back, but without the mischievous lilt, Draco hardly recognizes it.

After a moment, George finally opens the door, and Draco's first thought is to wonder who's in George's room. He realizes quite quickly that this is stupid, but George is nearly unrecognizable. His hair is longer than Draco's ever seen it, and messier, and his eyes are dead, where they normally sparkle with plots.

"'Sup, Charlie?" he asks, as though he doesn't even have the effort to enunciate.

"Dinner in a few," Charlie responds. George nods. His eyes flick to Draco, but there's no reaction, just as there wasn't when Charlie had informed him beforehand. George hasn't reacted to anything in a while.

As Draco is dragged up even _more_ stairs, he begins to rethink his love of them. Ron's room just had to be at the very top.

Charlie knocks on Ron's door. "Come in," Ron calls, and Charlie opens the door to find Ron on his bed, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. Draco does his best not to sneer at the decorations. Ron looks up and struggles not to glare at Malfoy.

"Dinner's ready," Charlie explains. Ron's stomach grumbles. Charlie grins.

"Right," Ron mutters, flushed. "I'll be right down."

Charlie nods and drags Draco out of the room.

"I take it you warned them I was coming," Draco remarks wryly, unsurprised. Charlie grins.

"Of course. I had to have time to clean up the mess." Draco looks alarmed before Charlie assures him that he's kidding.

"I just didn't think you needed to see Ron explode, that's all," Charlie murmurs. Draco winces.

"Did he?" he asks as they stop at the base of the stairway.

"A bit."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not _your_ fault."

"Meaning you think it's his." Charlie wonders how Draco's already picked up the nuances of how he speaks.

"Well... Yes, a bit. I mean, he didn't care that you're a guy, but when he found out that you're _you_, he was furious, and that's not really something you can help!"

"Charlie, I hurt him. And his friends. A lot. I'm not proud of that; I'm not proud of my past. But I don't blame him for hating me. _I_ hated me. I hate who I was. And who I was is all Ron's ever known. He's – reluctantly – giving me a second chance, and that's all I ask. A chance to prove that I'm not the Draco Malfoy he knew in school."

Charlie is staring at him in amazing. "How the heck did you get so smart?"

Draco smirks. "_Please__**. **_I was born this way." Charlie grins, and kisses Draco lightly.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

Draco looks at him in confusion.

"For being here, for doing this. Meeting my family," he explains. "You didn't have to."

Draco's shaking his head. "I did. They're a part of your life, Char, and that means they're a part of mine, too."

Charlie grins (he seems to do that a lot, when Draco's around), and kisses him again. Neither is sure how long it would've lasted, had Ron not come down the stairs. He thunks Charlie on the back of the head and yelps, "Oi, if you're going to do that, at least find somewhere less... In the way!"

Charlie pulls away, still grinning, and muses that he really needs to stop, or his face is going to get stuck that way, before he decides that he doesn't really care if it does, because he's happy. He takes Draco's hand again and leads him into the dining room.


	4. Is it pathetic that I miss him already?

Disclaimer: In the time since my last post, sadly, I have not become JK Rowling, nor have I won a gazillion dollars and bought Harry Potter. I don't own it.

AN: And to think, this started as a oneshot!

And Draco can't help but call Ron "Weasley", so _he_ apologizes for the confusion, because really, I had nothing to do with it. Every time Draco calls someone Weasley, though, it's Ron, just fyi.

* * *

Charlie guides Draco to a seat next to George, sitting beside him. Ginny's on Charlie's other side, with Ron next to George. Mrs. Weasley finishes setting the table just as Mr. Weasley slides through the door, dropping his coat and seating himself next to Ron. Greetings are exchanged, and Mrs. Weasley kisses her husband on the cheek before sitting beside him.

"Well? Eat up!" Mrs. Weasley commands, and they dig into the wonderful array of food. Still, this is not a typical Weasley family dinner. Few words are exchanged at first, and Draco does his best not to fidget awkwardly. Finally, he can't stand the silence anymore. He turns to Charlie.

"Yes, Charlie," he drawls sarcastically. "You're absolutely right; this isn't awkward at all." Charlie barks out a laugh, Ginny grins, even the corners of Ron's mouth quirk up as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley smile. What surprises them all the most, though, is that George actually laughs. It's short, and barely there, but it is undeniably a laugh. He blushes as they stare at him in amazement for a second, and then it seems like a spell has been broken. Ron begins to chatter away to Mr. Weasley about a new chess strategy he's been attempting, as Arthur is the only one that can even follow Ron's complicated explanations, though he can't match his son in an actual game.

Ginny turns to her mother, explaining a shopping trip in excruciating detail. Draco now feels out of place, because he's not entirely sure who to talk to, or which conversation to attempt to follow. Charlie's putting in his own opinion on Ron's chatter, despite having only a vague understand of chess, and Draco gets the strategy but has nothing to add, because really, Ron's plan is nearly flawless, and the flaws that it does have, Ron is already analyzing.

He stares at his plate, watching words fly and conversations crisscross, and he wonders how chaotic it gets on Sundays, when _everyone_ shows. He's a bit frightened at the prospect.

Draco nearly jumps out of his seat when George turns to him and asks, "Were you born a sarcastic git, or did you work at it your whole life?" Normally, Draco would be offended, but the faint grin on George's face – still a shadow of his former one, but there, nonetheless – stops him.

Draco tilts his chin up, looks down his nose at the man, and sneers, "What can I say? It's a gift."

George chuckles lightly, and Draco grins back at him.

"I see why Charlie likes you."

Suddenly, George burst into song.

"Were you born a sarcastic git?

"Or did you work at it your whole life?

"Either way, it turned out okay, because you're a sarcastic git tonight!(1)"

Molly, who had only been half listening and recognized the tune, snaps out, "Boys! I told you not to sing that song in my house!" without thinking. George freezes. Then the whole table freezes. Molly's eyes widen as she realizes what she'd said, and she tries to back peddle quickly. "George, Draco, you'd best cut that out right now!" she snaps, as though that was what she'd meant by 'boys' all along. Draco opens his mouth to protest, and Charlie elbows him sharply in the ribs. Draco shuts his mouth, understanding.

He hadn't realized until now that the war had truly broken _everyone, _even a family that so clearly fought for the right side. Everyone was broken, and now all they had left was the job of attempting to pick up the pieces. He thinks he was happier not knowing this, believing that there truly were people who were still naïve and happy, despite the war.

Once again, oddly, it is left to Draco to break the silence. He turns to George Weasley once more, cracks a small grin, and murmurs, so that only George can hear, "Well, _I_ enjoyed the song, anyway." He says this in an overly defensive tone, which serves its purpose. George cracks a smile.

"You really aren't the same smarmy little ferret you were in school, are you?" he asks.

"I'm trying not to be," Draco says. Conversation springs up around them once more. Charlie and Ron get into a heated Quidditch debate in which Ron actually tries to argue that the Cannons have a chance at the World Cup finals this year. Draco scoffs, and can't help joining the argument.

"Weasley, the Cannons are terrible, and even if they weren't, they wouldn't stand a chance. Look at the division they're in. The Falcons, the Arrows, the Ravens, the Hawks. Even if the Cannons were halfway to excellent, they don't stand a chance with the deck stacked against them like it is!"

Ron pouts. "I tell you, the Cannons would be good if they were in a decent division."

Charlie buts in. "Ron, they didn't win a single match last year!"

"They one won!"

"A _pre-season!_ Everybody knows those don't count for anything."

"And, as far as I'm concerned, the Cannons would be worse off in any other division," Draco points out. "It's the fact that they've got decent competition that made it possible for them to win that pre-season game. Take the Dragons, for example. They win their division every year, but it doesn't mean anything, because their division isn't worth anything! Even though they make it to the World Cup tournament, they never _go_ anywhere, and the reason they don't is because they've gotten lazy playing easy-to-beat teams! If the Cannons were in their division, yeah, maybe they'd win more games, but would they be a better team? I don't think so."

"I can see what you're saying, but I feel like they at least deserve a division where they're on an even playing field with the other teams!"

"Problem is, the divisions are set up only by the Ministry heads of each Department of Games and Sports in each country with at least one team participating. There's no way they could all agree long enough to rearrange the division. What the Cannons need is someone really excellent to pull them out of their slump, like Krum did with the Bulgarians."

"Even though he only played for a few years," Charlie puts in, "He restored the people's confidence in the team, and they started to get better sponsors, which meant they could get better players. He turned the whole program around."

Ron nods. "D'you think I could convince Harry to play for the Cannons?" he asks jokingly, a grin on his face.

Draco scoffs. "Unlikely. If that man wants to play Quidditch, which I doubt, he'll have his pick of the lot. No sane player would pick the Cannons, not even someone as good as Potter."

Ron gapes at him.

"What?" Draco asks self consciously.

"You... You just..." Ron stutters.

"Out with it, Weasley!" Draco snaps, impatient.

"I think that was almost a compliment!" Ron says in utter amazement. "No, I'm pretty sure that that was an actual, legitimate compliment!"

"Been reading the dictionary, Weasley?" Draco asks scathingly, trying to distract the boy. "Or did you learn that one from Granger?"

"Oh no!" Ron says. "You can't distract me that easily. I'm going to sit here and bask in the glory of this moment, before the world ends."

Draco raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, surely it's a sign of the apocalypse," Ron explains, as though this should be rather obvious. "You complimenting Harry."

Draco's cheeks are actually tinged slightly pink, and he curses his uncontrollable reaction.

"Shut it, Weasley," he grumbles.

"Ah, and that's your best retort. Pitiful, really."

Charlie is still conversing with George, but he's watching the two of them out of the corner of his eye, waiting for something to explode.

Slowly, Draco seems to realize that's he's just had an actual intelligent conversation with "The Weasel". He shakes his head.

"Weasley, I think you might be right. Us conversing civilly? The world must be ending."

"And you just agreed with me! That's the second sign! TAKE COVER EVERYBODY!" Ron shrieks, and those who haven't been listening to their conversation (Ginny, Arthur, and Molly) dive under the kitchen table and pull out their wands. Draco, Ron, Charlie, and George burst out into hysterical giggles. Ginny glares and hexes her brother. The other three only laugh harder as Ron turns bright blue with hot pink polka dots.

"Good luck getting that off, brother mine," Ginny chirps cheerfully.

"Ginny!" Molly reprimands, crawling out from under the table and resuming her seat. "How many times have I told you not to hex your brothers!"

Ginny bats her eyelashes at her mother innocently. "Not enough?" she suggests.

They finish dinner in a similar manner as Draco tries (and fails) to adjust to listening to several overlapping conversations at once, a skill Charlie appears to have mastered quite well. Draco's heard him put in comments to four different conversations one after another, barely stopping to take a breath, but he always appears to give his full attention to the one he's speaking to. Draco can't help but be impressed, and he wonders if he'll ever be fluent in the language he's dubbed, "Weasley Dinner Table". It seems to be a complex language. Draco's doubtful he'll ever master it quite like a native speaker.

Finally, dinner is done, and Draco stares as each Weasley child dutifully carries his or her own dishes to the sink, where Mrs. Weasley spells them clean and away. Hesitantly, he follows suit and is rewarded with a smile from Mrs. Weasley and a patented Charlie-grin.

Charlie leads Draco into the living room before asking, "Are you sure you can't stay past dinner?"

Draco regretfully shakes his head. "My mother wanted me back."

Charlie nods. "You'll come back?"

Draco is not as appalled at this suggestion as he previously would have been.

"Of course," he murmurs. "And you'll have to meet my parents, sometime." Draco deliberately puts no timeframe on this suggestion. Charlie notices, but he lets it slide, wrapping Draco in his arms.

"I'll miss you," he whispers into his ear.

"I'll miss you too," Draco admits.

Charlie kisses him once, deeply, before Draco _very _ruefully pulls away, muttering, "I really do have to go." Charlie smiles at him.

"Goodbye, Dragon." Draco smiles at the nickname.

"Goodbye, Char," he says in reply, and steps into the floo.

Charlie turns around and is surprised to find Ron in the doorway.

"You know," Ron muses, "No one should really be surprised you fell for him. You always _did_ have an unhealthy obsession with dragons, after all."

He smiles at Charlie, and Charlie knows, in that moment, that his brother _can_ leave the past in the past.

"Thanks, Ron."

Ron nods.

Charlie sighs. "Is it pathetic that I miss him already?"

Ron laughs. "Yes, brother mine. Yes, it is."

(1) This is a Jimmy Buffet song, but I changed the lyrics around a bit. The normal lyrics contain naughty words :)


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